


O is for Ostagar

by OtakuElf



Series: YADAA (Yet Another Dragon Age Alphabet) [15]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Dragon Age Quest: Return to Ostagar, F/M, Gen, Grey Wardens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-12
Updated: 2015-11-12
Packaged: 2018-05-01 07:09:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5196851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OtakuElf/pseuds/OtakuElf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loghain returns to the place of his greatest betrayal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	O is for Ostagar

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to Lunamoth116 for beta-reading!

Ostagar. Snow blankets the land, but there is no restful sleep. The Blight has deadened the ground, and the only living things to be seen are darkspawn, blighted animals, and gore crows still pecking at the remains of a once proud army. The Blight, surprisingly, seems to keep the corpses from completely rotting away. So many dead that are only part of the debt owed by one of the party traveling here. Loghain is no longer Teyrn, no longer protector of Ferelden, nor regent of Anora’s rule over that beloved country. Disgraced. Tainted. Outcast.

Traitor Loghain, Grey Warden. Tramping behind the Hero, the crunch of footsteps echoing in the snow-covered silence, the newly made Grey Warden studied the squat dwarven figure. It galled him to put trust in this alien, pretender to another throne. The mabari trailing him as well - the symbol of Ferelden - another insult. Then there was the giant grey invader pacing alongside of them. The Orlesian at their back, caused Loghain to twitch. 

The red-haired spy’s accent made him want to vomit. Seeing the Hero of Ferelden, as they were calling the dwarf, kiss his Orlesian strumpet was almost enough to make Loghain regret his oath. Void take it, of course he regretted it. He’d taken the taint into his blood, and now was a dying man, poisoned as much as the land. That taint called to the darkspawn. The former regent, Hero of River Dane, could feel the presence of the creatures all around him. He could no longer deny the Blight.

An old man, drying out now from his affair with the gallons of wine he’d drunk to silence the pain of making bold, unpleasant decisions for his country. He’d seen soldiers with the shakes. Watched men die around him in delirium as well, when the rebellion against the Orlesian conquerors dragged out through the bitter Fereldan winter. Winter as cold as this, though Loghain had better equipment now. Wool socks, for the most part dry. That old mage, Wynne, made a face when he’d commented on that. Old witch. He’d seen the look on her face when the young bastard had thrown his tantrum and run off. Blame cast upon him for many things. Things he’d done, and things Howe had done. In any case, being a Grey Warden seemed to be keeping death from alcohol poisoning away.

The old witch did not get along with the young witch. Circle or apostate, mages were to be used. It was a shame that Ulric had not brought the mages in with his plans for fighting the Orlesians. He’d have brought the templars along as well with promises of restoring the status quo. Something for everyone.

Yes, his policies had been difficult. There had to be some sacrifices made if Ferelden was to survive. Ferelden was for the Fereldans. Selling the elves out of the alienage - it brought desperately needed money into the capital to fund the army and policing of the recalcitrant banns. The elves were much better off away from Ferelden. The'd never been assimilated, taking jobs that humans were better suited for. Send them all to Tevinter. Start with the alienages and after those were clear, finish with the damned Dalish haunting his land. Send them packing, if they proved no good for sale. Chase them over the border into Orlais and make them the Empress’s problem.

That blighted Orlesian whore, to promise Cailan to share the throne. Blind, stupid boy thinking that tossing Anora aside would keep him on the throne. Orlesians were like all the other foreigners, the Rivaini, the Antivans, prone to poisoning spouses once they got what they’d wanted. No sooner would Cailan have wed Celene than she’d have her legal claim to the Ferelden throne. Fool! Thrice consigned to the Void for what he’d planned to do to Loghain’s Anora. To his wife and the Queen of Ferelden. That chest Duran had found proved Cailan’s bad faith, his infidelity in a way that Anora’s suspicions had never been able to. Oh, she’d told Loghain of her thoughts that Cailan had lovers in court. She had no proof. Anora was too busy doing the work of ruling the country.

It wasn’t Cailan doing the diplomatic work that kept his throne afloat. Loghain would call him a bastard if he didn’t know that Rowan would never have betrayed Maric. Not even with Loghain, who had loved her. Loghain had loved Maric, too. Cailan had Maric’s golden good looks, his charm. But the boy had never had Maric’s brains. Cailan had not just betrayed his wife. He’d betrayed Loghain as well. Spoiled from birth he was. Promised Anora from her birth, and taking no pride in it either. 

His beautiful daughter. The most precious thing in Thedas, after the land he loved so much, now that Rowan and Maric were gone. Ferelden claimed his honor. His Anora had turned against her father to save the land. 

At the very least she would not be forced into marriage to Maric’s bastard son. Loghain’s sources told him that Alistair was on a ship out of Denerim by nightfall on the day the dwarf had won their duel. While the bastard was watching Denerim vanish behind him, Loghain was drinking the cup of death that now crawled through his blood. Good riddance. Alistair reminded him too much of both Cailan and Maric. Maric’s weakness was passed down to his sons, without carrying along his devotion to the country that was Ferelden.

Not a particular weakness of Loghain’s. Though he could appreciate a goodly-shaped woman. The young witch was stick-thin, with some enjoyable qualities to the eye. Too bad she had her eye fixed on that grey creature. Qunari. Loghain didn’t have much use for employing those who had openly admitted to a plan to conquer all of Thedas. The Qunari did not like him, either. Worked for Loghain. So long as the - Sten, was it? So long as the Sten used that big sword to take the heads off of the darkspawn, they would have no issues.

Until the time the Qunari came for Ferelden. If Loghain was still alive. But not now; he was now a Grey Warden, and they didn’t get involved in political struggles. Nor plagues, like the Qun. They were there to eliminate the Blight, the darkspawn, and the Archdemons. He didn’t know much about the Qunari, beyond that they wanted to take over all of Thedas and turn it to the Qun. Anora knew about them. She was a scholar, as well as a ruler. He would trust her to care for his country. She’d the makings of a Rebel Queen herself, though she was not much like Queen Moira.

Pulling his canteen from a larger pack than he’d carried in years, the former general took a mouthful of water and held it for a moment before letting it trickle down his throat. Wine would be better. Wine would quench his thirst. But he’d not had a mouthful of it since downing that awful cupful at the Joining. Darkspawn blood and lyrium. What insanity had come up with that?

The Antivan appeared out of nowhere to tell the dwarf of darkspawn ahead. Another foreigner. One that could not even do his job without being taken captive. Considering the quiet threat the elf had made, harm _his Warden_ in any way, and Loghain would get his throat slit. Well, the failed Crow could try. The elf would find that this old man was not quite so easy a target as he believed. 

Weapons were drawn, and Loghain settled his shield. Time to take the fight to the darkspawn. He was a Grey Warden now. Drawn into this company by a man he had been trying to kill. His life would be spent in fighting the creatures. Time for them to die.

They battled their way across the parapets, to the bridge from one hill of the ancient city to the next. The tower of Ishal was in their sights across the gorge. Then on the bridge a wooden cross came into sight. A dead body hung, naked and despoiled, but still obviously Cailan, the dead King of Ferelden.

The men and women following the Hero of Ferelden fought their way through genlocks, hurlocks, and emissaries to reach the King. Left to rot in full view as an obvious example. Grey Warden Duran was collecting the golden pieces of Cailan’s panoply the way a child gathers parts of a puzzle. Catching their breath, Loghain could feel the eyes of the humans upon him. The elf, the Qunari, and the dwarf had no care for the dead body of a man Loghain had looked upon almost as a son. 

His son-in-law. Betrayed by Loghain, and left to be rent to pieces by the same darkspawn they were now destroying. Hanging, rotting on the crossed beams. Well. He would see that the boy was taken down and given to the pyre when they were done here. Kill the darkspawn, destroy them utterly - at Ostagar at least - and treat Cailan with a modicum of respect. He was owed that much.

That much and no more. Anora had loved Cailan, in spite of his betrayals. Loghain had loved him, in spite of his attempt to hand over the country to Orlais. If nothing else, this second time at Ostagar would lay Cailan, King of Ferelden, to rest. Even if it would not bring back Loghain’s lost honor, sweeping through the remnants of the horde here at Ostagar would prepare them for the larger battle to come. 

Loghain, Grey Warden, would serve Ferelden in the war against the Blight, or die.

**Author's Note:**

> This is not one of my regular series, and I guess you'd call it an AU so far as I am concerned.
> 
> I realized that this is not the way it happens in the version of the game with Loghain becoming a member of the team. I am interested in peoples' thoughts about the Loghain character and that he endures. After all, one of his supporters shows up in Inquisition, so he doesn't just go away.


End file.
